Actually...
Effort and good grades aren't always positively correlated.
When you put effort into the wrong direction, sometimes the harder you try, the harder you fail.
Take stock trading, for example. In most cases, the harder the greenhorns try, the more often they get harvested.
Tuition fees, you see, are never fully paid off.
Ron, having just paid a heavy wave of "tuition" to Snape, was doubting the very meaning of life.
Even after class ended and he headed to the Great Hall for dinner, he still hadn't managed to snap out of it.
"Yo, isn't this our ickle Ronnie?"
"I wonder how many points you earned in Snape's class?"
Seeing Ron look so out of it, the twins instantly perked up. They flanked Ron on the left and right, sandwiching him in the middle with expressions of mock seriousness.
"Surely you didn't get points deducted?"
"Though we wouldn't exactly be surprised if you did."
"Go away! Go away!"
Ron shook his shoulders irritably, throwing off the twins' hands. He then sullenly grabbed a chicken leg and began tearing into it with both hands.
"I clearly tried hard..." Ron mumbled indistinctly, speaking in a voice only he could hear. "It must be because of Snape. It's definitely his fault. He just can't stand Gryffindor, and he can't stand me. The Lighting Charm... I could use it without even studying. What's so hard about that?"
The temporary setback didn't crush Ron. After removing the factor of "not trying," he was actually putting more effort into everything than before—including striving to become an outstanding student valued and praised by the professors.
Unlike Ron, the other three who had received the help of the "graduation certificates" didn't necessarily obsess over performing well in front of the professors. However, after breaking their bad habits, their academic lives had indeed improved significantly.
Seamus, no longer careless, stopped causing accidental explosions in class. Dean was always able to focus on his studies and complete his homework, showing a marked improvement in his grades.
But if we are talking about the person who changed the most, it was definitely Neville.
The formerly confused little chubby boy could be said to have been reborn after that day. Neville was no longer scatterbrained, nor did he casually forget the lesson content he had heard just a second ago. Neville's parents were elite Aurors of the Ministry of Magic; while the Longbottom family didn't obsess over pure blood, the family's excellent lineage had indeed been inherited by Neville.
After all, in the original timeline, after the main trio left Hogwarts, it was Neville who carried the banner of "Dumbledore's Army," fighting against the Death Eaters within the school.
He fixed the loopholes in the Room of Requirement, re-establishing it as the base camp for Dumbledore's Army. While pulling the Sword of Gryffindor to sever Nagini's head was his crowning moment, what was truly admirable was his brave stand against evil after he had grown up.
True courage is stepping forward even when you know there are hardships ahead, and even when you know the odds are impossible.
And at this moment, Neville had a very clear and distinct goal in his heart—he wanted to become someone his parents would be proud of. He wanted to learn more knowledge and magic, hoping that in the future, he could pull his mom and dad out of the abyss.
He was a boy, yes, but he was already several steps ahead of many others, striding towards becoming a responsible man.
His previously hidden, undiscovered talent in Herbology was now seen by people. Even in Charms and Transfiguration, Neville's performance was quite impressive. For a boy who used to boil potions into a pot of paste, the fact that Snape didn't stop or deduct points when passing by Neville's cauldron was the most practical praise for his current progress.
In the cold of November, someone held up a small torch for Gryffindor, adding a few more red gems to that hourglass.
But just then, after ten weeks of training, the Quidditch season finally arrived. The biting cold wind couldn't dampen the young wizards' enthusiasm. As the match day approached, whether in the Great Hall or the common rooms, people were talking about the first game of the year—Gryffindor vs. Slytherin!
This was a battle of arch-rivals. As sworn enemies, the two houses were at each other's throats whether in the classroom or on the pitch. Slytherin, accustomed to underhanded tactics, always dealt the harshest blows when facing Gryffindor.
Sacking people from behind to beat them up, putting laxatives in drinks, and deliberately provoking trouble in the corridors—these things happened every year.
But this year, Slytherin had changed slightly. Snape was finally fulfilling the responsibilities of a normal teacher; he strictly forbade such despicable behavior. This act of kindness drew cheers from the young wizards of the other houses. Snape's reputation actually improved during this period. Plus, with Professor Quirrell returning to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts in December, the students, having digested a bellyful of solid knowledge, were honestly a bit reluctant to see Snape go.
"Don't be nervous, Harley, you are the pride of our Gryffindor!"
On the evening before the match, Wood was cheering Harley on in the common room. "Just show the level you had during training. We will absolutely win this opening Quidditch match!"
"Except for being a little cold, I'm not nervous, Wood."
Harley had a trace of awkwardness on her face. Wood was acting a bit too hyperactive right now. "If you keep talking so loudly... I might actually feel some pressure. Everyone is watching."
"Is... is that so?" Wood scratched his head in a flurry. "Ahaha... maybe I'm just a bit excited."
"We'll be cheering for you!"
Students in the common room shouted loudly to Wood, "Beat those Slytherin bastards into the ground! Don't let them score a single goal!"
Amidst the cheers and encouragement of the crowd, Harley tugged at Lynn, who was curled up in an armchair reading a book. "I'm suddenly a little nervous. If I don't play well tomorrow, will I become a sinner in the eyes of Gryffindor?"
"You don't need to worry about that." Lynn closed the book in his hand and turned to look at Harley. "Everyone is very tolerant and forgiving toward you. No one will blame you if you lose the game."
"Oh, I get it. Because good-looking people are always more easily forgiven, right?"
Harley immediately applied the excuse Lynn had used before. "I do seem to be quite good-looking."
"Then you have to thank your mom for her good looks. If you looked like your old dad, you'd be done for."
Harley stuck out her tongue. "It seems my dad really wasn't very popular? Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon hate him, and it seems Professor Snape does too. But I don't know what exactly he did to incur such wrath. I asked Hagrid before, but Hagrid only said 'James liked to play pranks on people.' I don't know the rest."
"So, do you want to know?"
"A little bit. I'm still very curious."
Harley nodded, looking at Lynn with puppy-dog eyes, but the guy shut his mouth after speaking, putting on a look of deep, mysterious silence.
"Lynn!"
"Hmm?"
"Please~"
"Don't whine, don't whine, I can't handle that!" Lynn, suppressing her rebellious move with a hand on Harley's forehead, said, "Wait a few days. Let me figure out a good method."
"Okay, fine~ But what book are you reading?"
"The 1990 New Edition Quidditch Rulebook. I'm the commentator tomorrow. A bit surprised?"
"Hehe, I knew you were the best, Lynn!"
Suddenly feeling reassured, Harley patted her chest. "I will definitely win tomorrow!"
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